Disclaimer: Dick Wolf owns and will continue to own every SVU character. cries….I want Elliot for Christmas!
Author's notes: Your reviews are so kind, and your suggestions are cool too. However, I've already finished writing this story, so that's why I've been able to update mostly everyday. I might put some of the suggestions in my next one…if I write another one. The ending for this has been established, but I want to re-write some aspects, so the last couple of chapters may (most probably) not be up for a couple of days. This chapter should tide you over. And there's more e/o….just not them making out. I'm terrible at writing that aspect. Give me gore and serial killers and I'm fine….hmm…that can't be good. Anyway, without further ado, we go on with the show.
Thursday, 1pm
"Your Captain said you had a suspect?" Melinda asked as greeting to Munch and Fin as they entered her office.
"Yeah, a hooker called Caramel Latte," Fin replied, sitting down on the chair behind Melinda's desk.
Melinda raised her eyebrow in amusement, "how original."
"I thought so," Munch said, smirking. "Her story's one of kind as well"
"Really?" Melinda asked, pulling the file Fin was snooping through, and placing it in her drawer.
Munch nodded, amused at the face Fin made towards Melinda, "she's been lying through her teeth since we brought her in. Spun some story about not being in the room for twenty minutes while she scored off some dealer in the building."
"You don't believe her?" Melinda asked, folding her arms.
Fin looked up from another file he'd opened, "should we? There's no-one to corroborate with her story except a drug dealer. She was the only one the manager saw with him at the time of his death."
Melinda took the file Fin had and placed it in the same drawer as the other one, clearly exasperated with him, "well, the manager can't always see everything. Plus, O'Halloran has something that might interest you."
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"Hey," O'Halloran said, jumping up from the chair he was in, "been waiting for a visit from you guys"
Munched smiled, "Warner says you have information for us?"
O'Halloran nodded, making his way to one of the counters that held all sorts of electronic equipment, which Munch was sure was worth more than his apartment and pension combined. Times ten. "We found fingerprints on your weapon and an estimated height of your perp." He pulled a file from the large stack on the edge of the desk. "Your captain called through with your perp's name," O'Halloran smirked, "her real name."
"I prefer Ms Latte myself," Munch said, reading the file over O'Halloran's shoulder.
"Whatever the name, she's in the system. Some soliciting charges and one assault. But…"
"Her prints don't match the ones on the gun," Munch finished, taking the file O'Halloran handed over.
O'Halloran nodded, "not even close. Sorry."
"Damn," Fin swore, "the gun was textured; she could've fired it with gloves or somethin'."
O'Halloran drew his lip in, shaking his head, "nice try. First the prints would've been smudged – these were clean. Also, the trajectory of the bullet shows that your perp is about 6ft 4'. Ms Latte's record says she's barely 5ft 5'."
Munch and Fin shared an incredulous look. "How do you know that?" Munch asked, taking the file from Fin.
"The blood spatter is consistent with the position the body was found in," Melinda offered, "as was post-mortem levidity. He was killed in the position we found him in."
"Well Ms Latte's story checks out." Fin said folding his arms.
O'Halloran nodded, "you have to bear in mind most of this information is circumstantial at best. And what I'm about to show you will probably have no bearing in court, but it will help in finding the guy."
"Well, are you going to keep us in suspense all day, or take up prosecuting?" Munch asked, looking at O'Halloran over the top of his glasses.
O'Halloran rolled his eyes before gesturing for Munch to follow him to where he had been sitting when they'd initially entered the lab. "Sit for me" O'Halloran said to Munch, pulling out his chair. Munch sat obediently, "So you're Quant and I'll be your perp."
Munch put his hands up, "don't shoot me."
Fin snorted, but O'Halloran pointedly ignored him as he stepped back about 3 feet from where Munch was sitting. "Ok, forensics came back with the gun shot residue pattern on you vic's clothing and the wall behind him. It was consistent with a shot fired by your weapon at about 3ft away. Hand me the gun please, Melinda," Warner handed O'Halloran the plastic 9mm over to him. O'Halloran continued, "The trajectory of the bullet at that distance means you're after somebody about 6ft4'."
Fin voiced his dissent, "how do you know that for sure?"
"Traditionally, you fire a weapon like this," O'Halloran held the fake gun out in front of him, aiming directly at Munch's chest. "Now if it were Perez who had shot Mr Quant, the bullet would've entered at a higher angle. Your bullet was lodged at an angle consistent with someone of a far greater height. Unless she shot him with the gun over her head." O'Halloran, meaning it to be a light-hearted comment, noticed the hopeful look on Fin's face and covered his tracks, "which she couldn'tve. The gun residue pattern was clear-cut, the gun was steady. If Perez did have the gun over her head, the shot would've jerked; unclean pattern."
Munch sighed, leaning forward, his forearms resting on his thighs, "thanks"
O'Halloran smiled, "you're welcome. I hope it helps you find this guy"
"Yeah," Fin said, following Munch towards the exit. They said goodbye to Warner and O'Halloran, making their way back to the elevator.
"Better call Elliot and get him to release the shot of caffeine," Munch said, pulling his phone out of the pocket of his jacket.
Fin smirked, "you're just mad she ordered you round like a man servant."
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Elliot sighed heavily as he placed the phone back on the hook. He gestured for one of the passing uniforms, "Let Perez out."
Olivia looked up quickly from her paperwork, "why?"
"Prints don't match. Forensics tells us we're looking for someone a lot taller," Elliot relayed, taking a sip of his coffee.
Olivia raised an eyebrow, sipping from her own mug, "how do they know that?"
Elliot shrugged, "Munch tried to explain it to me. You know how it is when he rambles."
Olivia chuckled, straightening up the last of her paperwork.
Cragen came out of his office and approached their desks, hands deep in his pockets, "just got the call from the lab."
Elliot rubbed his eyes tiredly, "where to now Cap?"
Cragen rubbed the back of his head, thinking, "Did he work?"
Olivia flipped some pages of Quant's file, "yeah. Wife says when he wasn't sleeping around, he was working at some big internet company. Biggest in New York apparently"
Cragen nodded, "he high up?"
"Relatively," Olivia said, "some kind of consultant."
"Ask around," Cragen said, turning to go back to his office, "maybe his colleagues know whether or not someone had it in for him."
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"Can I help you?"
Olivia smiled, pulling out her badge, "I'm Detective Benson, and this is my partner Detective Stabler. We're conducting a homicide investigation"
The security guard in the main lobby nodded in understanding, "you mean Dennis Quant"
"Yeah," Elliot said, pulling out his notebook, "can you tell us who he worked with?"
The security guard nodded, reaching behind him for a thick folder, "the company is made up of various departments," he explained as he opened the folder to the section he was looking for, "Dennis was a consultant on the twelfth floor. He worked closely with the top dogs, people in human resources, sometimes clients. Most of his work though was behind the desk with a computer."
Elliot wrote down the details quickly, as Olivia looked over the page the guard provided her. "Can we get a copy of this?"
The guard nodded, handing it to the secretary who had been sitting beside him. "Anything else?"
"Do you know any colleagues he was close to in particular?"
The guard chewed his lip thoughtfully as he handed the copy of the document to Elliot, "well, he'd always go to lunch with Trevor and Jeremy in his department."
"And they're on the twelfth floor?"
A nod, "yeah"
"We can go up?" Elliot asked, already following Olivia to the elevators.
"Absolutely," he replied, mostly to himself, as they rounded the corner and out of sight.
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"What can you tell us about Dennis?" Olivia asked, wrapping her cold hands around the steaming mug of tea, Elliot mirroring her actions with his own cup of coffee.
Across from them sat Trevor Daly and Jeremy Goodes. Perhaps the slimiest two men Olivia and Elliot had ever encountered. If Jeremy wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at Olivia again, she was sure it would be lights out courtesy of Elliot's fist.
She rolled her eyes and saw Elliot's fist clench repeatedly as Trevor leered at her creepily, "anything you want," he responded.
Elliot rolled his neck, as he sat up straighter in his seat, "anyone have an issue with him at all?"
Jeremy and Trevor exchanged an amused look, "you could say that," Jeremy finally answered, taking a cautious sip of his coffee. Elliot was clearly growing increasingly frustrated with these two jerks.
"And what's that supposed to mean?"
Jeremy leant forward and Olivia almost reflexively leant back. Instead, she sat still as Jeremy made sure no-one was listening. "Let's just say he was getting more out of the boss's secretary than the boss actually was."
Olivia and Elliot exchanged a quick look, "his infidelities weren't a secret," Elliot said, folding his arms, "there a policy against dating co-workers?"
Jeremy and Trevor looked at each other again, before Trevor inclined his head towards Elliot and Olivia, "Not really. But there is an unwritten rule about screwing the boss's fiancé.
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"Mr Bertrand is in a meeting, can I help you?"
Elliot pulled the lapel of his jacket open, flashing his badge, "I'm Detective Stabler," he pointed at Olivia, "and this is my partner Detective Benson"
The secretary smiled, "what can I do for you?"
"Are you Zoe Haschem?"
The secretary shook her head, "Zoe called in sick today. She really took Dennis's death hard. They were very close"
Olivia raised an eyebrow, "how close?"
The secretary cast a wary look towards the closed door of her boss's office, "well, there were rumours," she trailed off.
"Were they true?"
She sat back in her chair guiltily, "I don't want to seem like a gossip"
Olivia nodded her head in understanding, "this doesn't have to leave the room"
The secretary sighed, "there have always been rumours about the two," she paused, "mostly unsubstantiated, until about two weeks ago."
"What happened?"
"Well, apparently, the janitor caught them in a compromising position in his supply closet," she noticed Elliot and Olivia's quick glance, "word spread, but nobody but the janitor saw. It could be completely false"
"We spoke to his work colleagues who say they were romantically involved," Olivia supplied.
The Secretary raised a sceptical eyebrow, "Trevor and Jeremy?"
Olivia nodded as the secretary gave a small laugh, "they're sleaze-balls that could see sexual innuendo in a pot plant."
Elliot and Olivia smiled, "so we shouldn't believe them?"
She shrugged in response, "you'll need to ask Zoe that"
They made to leave, but Olivia turned back, "does her fiancé know about the rumours?"
She shrugged again, "and you'd have to ask Mr Bertrand that yourself"
Olivia inclined her head in the direction of the closed door, "now?"
She shook her head, "it's a very important meeting with international clients. But I'll write you in for this afternoon."
"In the meantime we'll check up on Zoe. You have her address?"
She pulled a card from the rolladex to her left, handing it to Olivia, "just bring it back when you come back this afternoon."
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"Zoe Haschem?"
The woman who answered the door, nodded slowly. Her eyes were red from crying and from the way her hair was frizzed; it looked like she'd been in bed most of the day. Her present appearance however, masked a stunningly attractive woman, blonde and slim, with wide green eyes – which at the moment were glassy from tears.
"Who are you?" She asked, sniffing slightly.
"Detectives Benson and Stabler: SVU. We're investigating the murder of Dennis Quant"
"Oh, ok. Come in." She stood back and allowed Elliot and Olivia into the wide expanse of the entrance hall, before closing the door behind them.
Zoe pulled her dressing gown tighter around her as she led the detectives into the sitting room. Sitting room being an understatement. The fact that Elliot and Olivia's apartments could fit comfortably within the confines of the marble floors and mahogany walls, made Elliot wonder why Zoe would risk all this for a fling with that jerk Quant. A quick look at Olivia's wide eyes showed she was thinking along very similar lines. They took a seat on the sofa closest to the glass doors that led out onto a wide area that passed for a backyard: swimming pool included. Zoe sat down in an armchair opposite. As she brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear, the diamond ring on her left hand almost blinded Olivia.
"What can I do for you detectives?" Her voice was surprisingly steady despite her physical demeanour.
"We're just interested in your association with Mr Quant."
She looked at Elliot wearily, "you mean did I sleep with him?"
Olivia shifted slightly at her abruptness, "we heard about the rumours. Was there any truth behind them?"
Zoe sighed heavily, pulling at her robe again, "we've always been friends." She wiped at her eye with a crumpled tissue that she had in her robe's sleeve, "about two weeks ago, my fiancé and I had a fight. He left early, I stayed behind late. So did Dennis. We broke into Oliver's liquor cabinet and drank ourselves silly. His relationship with his wife was over; mine was on a knife's edge. We were both lonely. It just…happened. Only once."
Olivia nodded empathetically, "does your fiancé know?"
Zoe nodded, "I finally mustered up the courage to tell him yesterday afternoon."
"Yesterday afternoon?" Olivia repeated, looking quickly at Elliot. He kept his gaze directed at Zoe who had leant over at the box of tissue to blow her nose.
She turned back to them, "He was so angry, he stormed out. Came back this morning reeking of tequila and cigarette smoke," she sighed again, leaning her arms on her thighs while cradling her face in her hands. She mumbled something unintelligible.
"What's that?"
Zoe looked up, "he said he was going to kill him. I didn't think he'd actually do it."